The security guard tensed up and struggled against Ben, but he did not scream. Ben’s arms closed around him and held him tight as he drove his fangs through the guard’s flesh; he acted on instinct like a baby suckling a nipple. The blood flowed into his mouth like a rich sauce. It washed over his tongue and drizzled down his throat as naturally as water. His tastebuds came alive and hummed with ecstasy as the delicious elixir passed over them. All of Ben’s weakness, all of his pain, began to fade as soon as the blood hit his tongue. Its healing effects swept through every cell in his body and filled him with fiery strength. Within seconds he’d forgotten the night’s worth of agony that he had suffered. Nothing outside of this very moment held any significance.

The blood taken from the security officer did not have the same delightfully sweet taste as Erin’s had done. That euphoric sweetness was present, but mingled in was something else. It took Ben a moment to recognise it, and when he did he pulled his head away.

"Problem?" Erin asked from her position by the door. Her arms were folded over her chest as she watched him with mild interest.

"It tastes kind of acidic. Like when you get acid reflux," Ben said. If this was how blood tasted then he was not looking forward to his next meal or the countless meals that would follow.

Erin laughed lightly. ‘Every person’s blood tastes slightly different. Everything a person consumes ends up in their blood. Food, drink, alcohol, nicotine, drugs—it all ends up in the bloodstream in some form and it all leaves its mark. But, the biggest factor in how blood tastes is the person’s emotion. The acid you’re tasting is his fear.’

"That’s weird."

"When you figure out what emotion you like the taste of most you’ll learn how to induce that state in people. Assuming you live that long since I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to let you leave this room."

Worry gripped Ben, but the smell of the blood overpowered it and pulled his attention back to his prey. Two inflamed holes throbbed on the guard’s neck and blood was pumping out in tiny bursts. He was still breathing but barely. The rise and fall of his chest was almost non-existent. His head had fallen to the side and he was staring vacantly at the wall, like a man in a catatonic state. The lights were still on but nobody was home.

"Finish your meal," Erin said.

Her words gave Ben the permission he craved, and he dived back in. He descended into a world of bliss. By the time he drew away from his meal, he felt stronger than he’d ever felt in his life. There wasn’t a fight that he could not win. There was no challenge that was insurmountable. He felt like he could even fly if he really put his mind to it.

"Can vampires fly?" he asked Erin, as he jumped to his feet effortlessly.

"We can’t."

Although she had shut down his fantasy of being able to fly, Ben still felt a giddy excitement. The “we” that she had used included him now. He was a vampire. Like a prince who’d spent his life waiting for the throne, finally, it was his and the power was his to wield.

Ben looked down at the security officer at his feet. He felt a faint flickering of guilt, but it was buried beneath the euphoria of the blood that was rushing through his veins. At first, Ben thought he’d killed him, but then he noticed the minute movement of his chest inflating and collapsing. He was still alive but barely.

"We don’t need to kill," Ben thought out loud. That was a huge relief. The one thing that had always bothered him about being a vampire was the prospect of murder for survival. Apparently, that was not the case.

"Most people have more blood than you’ll need in one serving," she said.

"Five litres," Ben said, as he stared down at the guard. He was wondering why Erin had drained her victims when it was entirely unnecessary. What was she really up to?

"What?"

"The average human body contains five litres of blood," he said. He’d picked tidbits like that up over the years he’d spent working in a hospital.

A bizarre prickly itching ran across the back of his hand and when he looked down he saw that the sun had fallen over his skin through the open blinds. A faint pink rash had taken residence on his flesh. He stepped out of the nuisance ray and immediately the sensation ceased. He marvelled as the rash vanished to nothing in a matter of seconds. "What does the sun actually do to us?"

"If you stand directly in it, you’ll feel sick and weak. Your skin will start to prickle, itch, and blister. But you won’t burn to ashes. Eventually, your skin will dry, crack, and then bleed until you’ve got no blood left in your veins. Then you’ll essentially be dead until somebody feeds you. I wouldn’t stay in the sun that long if I were you." She smiled sarcastically before continuing.

"In direct sunlight, you won’t be able to use any vampiric abilities. So no super strength or speed. You’re basically just a sickly human. Indirect sunlight is different. Your powers will be weaker, but they will work. However, the more you use them the weaker you’ll become, and the only way to overcome it is to drink and rest. So, yes, you can go out in the sun, but no, you should not."

"Interesting," Ben said, nodding like a diligent student as he took it all in.

"Indeed." Erin walked across the room slowly as she continued to speak. "But what to do with you now, I just can’t decide." She reached the steel trolley and began tapping her fingernails rhythmically on the metal.

"Well, I’m kind of in favour of the letting me go option," Ben said carefully, eyeing the door. It wasn’t too far away and now that she had moved, he was closer to it than she was.

"Don’t bother trying to run, I’m faster than you," she said without even looking up.

"Listen," Ben held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I know that things have started off a bit rough." He never got to finish what he was going to say because Erin whipped up one of the bottles of silver nitrate solution and tossed it across the room at him.

Ben was too surprised to react and the bottle shattered right in the centre of his forehead. A brief pulse of stinging pain lanced through his head and then vanished before it could fully take hold. The solution splashed all over him, soaking his hair, and face, and dripping down onto his chest. Shards of glass rained down from his head. His eyes darted around, searching for a towel or something to wipe it off before it started to burn. He remembered all too vividly the sight of Erin practically melting in a sizzling mess and he had no aspirations to find himself in a similar situation. He ran over to the bed to use the sheets to wipe the solution from his skin, however, by the time he got there he realised there was no urgency after all.

"I’m not burning," he said, turning back to Erin and momentarily forgetting that she had been the one who had thrown the stuff at him. She was the only person in the room, and the only vampire he knew. She was the only person he could turn to with his confusion.

She was eyeballing him like he was a spider that had grown far larger than it had any right to be.

"I noticed," she said in a whisper. "You should be in agony." She took a single step toward him and stopped, not willing to get too close to the anomaly. "Vampires can vary in some abilities and weaknesses, but silver hurts us all the same. There is no exception to that rule."

"Your blood," Ben said, figuring out what had caused his unique exception. "Your blood was laced with silver. This must be a side effect of that." He stopped himself from smiling, he didn’t want to anger her more than he already had. She had been wrong when she’d predicted that drinking silver-infused blood would have a negative effect. Quite the contrary was true.

Erin stared at Ben for minutes on end, her eyes narrowed, deep in thought. Ben racked his brain to try to think of anything he could say that might work in his favour, but anything he thought of would probably just provoke her. He was standing on a precipice and one wrong move would see him fall. He had what he’d always wanted and now Erin could snatch it all out of his grip. He was too scared to risk uttering a single word, so he took the smart route, and stayed silent.

"Go," she said at last, her voice so quiet he barely heard it even with vampiric hearing.

"Go?" he repeated, not quite believing what he had heard.

"Yes. Leave."

"You’re not going to kill me?"

She glared impatiently at him. "Not yet," she snapped.

"What about him?" He pointed at the unconscious security guard on the floor.

"Him?" Erin walked over to the downed man and stared at him. "With the right help, he could probably survive the blood loss." She lifted her foot and brought it crashing down on the guard’s head. Bone cracked and bone splattered out like she’d stamped on a watermelon. Ben looked away before he could see the results of her handy work. Or footwork was the more appropriate term.

"Why?" Ben asked in a whisper.

"That’s not your business. Go and make the most of the gift you stole from me. If you can survive by yourself for a few days then maybe I’ll let bygones be bygones. And don’t worry, I’ll clean this mess up."

It dawned on him then that survival as a vampire might not be as simple as he’d always envisioned. "But I don’t know all the rules. Like, what can kill us? What should I avoid? What are our powers and weaknesses?"

She threw her hand up to stop his questions. "Figure it out. You wanted this. You stole it. Now, go and make it work. And remember, just because I’m letting you leave now, doesn’t mean I won’t kill you later. So don’t do anything stupid. Now go."

Ben could tell that it was not up for discussion and if he tried to push the matter then he would not be leaving the room after all. He grabbed one of the sheets from the bed and took it with him so he could dry his face and hair as soon as he was safely out of Erin’s reach.

Ben moved slowly, creeping around the edge of the room like a scared cat trying to escape a predator. Erin didn’t leave the spot she was standing on. The only thing that moved was her head, following Ben around the room. Ben paused at the door, checking to make sure it wasn’t all a trick, and Erin wasn’t going to shoot across the room and rip his head off. When it was clear that Erin was not going to do anything, Ben bolted out of the room.

He hurried down the corridor, drying his face, and stealing glances over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t following him. He didn’t relax until he pushed open the main doors to the ward and emerged into the functional part of the hospital.

The simple act of walking down a corridor was entirely different than it had been before. Ben noticed minor details like cat hairs on clothing, small tears on the wall signs, and the beating of every heart he passed. Each step that he took was filled with a confidence he’d never known before. Now he knew that none of the people around him could harm him. None of these people were his betters or even his equals, they were his inferiors now. He could slaughter them all on a whim. Not that he ever would, he was not a monster, it was just nice to know that he could. It was good to know that he stood at the top of the hill.

It was easier to get through the hospital unnoticed now that it was morning. The halls were packed with people, patients and staff, and nobody noticed him going by. Not that he had any real reason to hide, but he hadn’t reported for his shift last night, so it would be awkward if he were seen inside the hospital. Questions would be asked.

He used his newfound speed to slip past the security officers at the entrance without being seen. All they would have noticed was a brief breeze as he whizzed past the checkpoint and into the lobby.

He stepped outside and even though it was winter he felt the heat of the sun warming him even through his clothes. His enhanced vision seemed to be something of a hindrance in the bright light. He had to squint to be able to see without it hurting his eyes. Vampirism must have caused his pupils to dilate just like Erin’s were. It made sense; vampires were pretty much nocturnal and dilated pupils made it easier to see at night. He found that focusing on certain things reduced the need to squint, but anything outside of his tunnel of focus was a blurred mess.

Ben had only made it a few steps across the car park when he started to feel the sun’s draining effects on his energy. It was only a minor feeling, like staying up an hour later than usual. It was an easy thing to ignore, but he assumed it would increase the longer he was out in the sun. It was good to know that Erin had been telling the truth. It lent more weight to everything else she’d said.

He had just reached his battered Vauxhall Corsa when his eyes met Lewis Pratt’s who was just arriving for his shift. The doctor’s lips stretched in a sneer.

“Morning Bent-Dick. Did you have a fulfilling night of cleaning up piss and shit?” Pratt said as he shut the door of his BMW. When there were no witnesses Lewis’ bullying was always ramped up a few notches.

The discomfort from being in the sun had reduced Ben’s patience so he was unable to stop himself from snapping back at Lewis. “Isn’t it about time you grew up? We’re both closer to thirty than we are to twenty, and you still act like we’re thirteen. It’s time to stop being a pratt, Pratt.”

The look of surprise that claimed Lewis’ face was enough to make Ben’s comment worth it.

“What did you just say to me?” The surprise quickly vanished beneath Pratt’s anger and he stalked towards Ben with his chin jutted out. Ben’s old school playground memories rushed back to him.

“I said you need to grow up,” Ben reiterated, unwilling to back down. His instinct told him to run away, but he overrode the innate desire to protect himself. He held his ground and stared up into the taller man’s eyes.

“You need to remember your place, Bent-Dick.” Pratt moved even closer so that Ben could feel his breath on his face. He could smell the eggs that Pratt had had for breakfast. The smell was so strong that Ben wondered if he would be able to taste it in his blood. “I’m a doctor and you’re a porter. I’m leagues better than you can ever hope to be.”

Lewis narrowed the gap between them as he loomed over Ben. Ben held his ground, not that he had a choice since his back was already pressed against his car. He wanted so badly to slam his palm into Lewis’ chest and send him to the ground for the first time in his life. But the sun was glaring down at him and he knew that he didn’t have the strength he needed. Not yet.

Lewis took Ben by the shoulder and drove him against the car, applying just enough pressure to hold him. His hand felt like a burning weight against Ben who ground his teeth and took it, knowing that in just twelve hours their roles would be reversed.

“You’re lucky we’re not still in school,” Lewis growled. He gave Ben a final shove before turning in the direction of the hospital.

Ben slunk into his car before anybody could see him. He silently vowed that that was the last time he’d be humiliated by Lewis Pratt. He rooted around in his glove compartment until he found his cheap pair of sunglasses. Planting them on his face, he was relieved to find that they improved his vision well enough for him to be able to drive. He started the car’s engine and backed out of the space, determined that the next time he encountered Lewis Pratt it would be at night, and it would end very differently.

By the time Ben got back to his apartment, he was exhausted. Attempting to use vampiric strength under the light of the sun had taken its toll on him, and it was all made worse by the fact that it hadn’t even worked. He pushed open the front door and had very nearly made it inside when he heard somebody calling his name. He looked around and saw Detective Inspector Castling traipsing his way down the corridor.

"Erm, hi," Ben said. There was no denying that seeing Castling at his home was no good thing, and Ben was too tired to even try to find a rational reason for the visit.

"Yes, hello. I am sorry to bother you when you’ve just come home from…where have you been? You didn’t report for your shift at the hospital and nobody could reach you at home." He made his question sound casual enough, but Ben noticed that his notebook was in one hand, and his pen in the other.

"No, well, I wasn’t feeling so great. I get migraines. I was in bed all evening. Didn’t answer the phone or the door. When I get a migraine the only thing to do is lie in a dark room and stay as still as possible. Even the slightest movement was making it worse." Lying wasn’t that difficult for Ben. He’d been a bit of a naughty child and found himself in trouble often. He’d quickly learned to think on his feet so that he didn’t have to spend all his free time in detention. And Ben wasn’t been completely dishonest, he did suffer from migraines, and they could sometimes get as bad as he was describing. He just hadn’t had one last night.

D.I. Castling nodded along as he jotted away in his notebook. "I see. And where have you just come back from?"

"I went to get some tablets. For the migraine." He could feel a nervous itch on the back of his neck; it was the same one that always arose to plague him when he was put under pressure. There was nothing that put a person under pressure more than being a suspect in a murder case, and Ben knew that was the reason for Castling’s visit. He was an official suspect.

"Sorry to bombard you like this. I needed to follow up with you about the red-haired woman, and my officers told me that you didn’t report for your shift, so I came to speak to you here. When you didn’t turn up there was some concern. Do you mind if I come in? I think it would be better if we didn’t do this in the hallway. I don’t want to give your neighbours the wrong impression."

Ben didn’t actually care what his neighbours thought, but since it would only look suspicious if he declined to invite the detective inspector in, he stepped aside and opened the door widely so that Castling could enter.

Ben’s apartment was small, and quite frankly, horrible. Since the day he’d moved in it had been gradually falling apart and the landlord didn’t seem to be in any rush to pay for the repairs. He would’ve moved out, but hospital porters didn’t earn that much and most of his wages went on paying the rent. Until he earned more money he was stuck spending the majority of his money on the apartment that he didn’t want to live in.

The first thing Ben did was cross the living room and pull the curtains closed, blocking out the glaring sun that had it in for him. Castling gave him a querying look before his eyes drifted to the damp patch on the ceiling.

"Still got a bit of a migraine," Ben said, choosing to explain the curtain shutting instead of the damp patch. The damp patch was self-explanatory.

"Ah," Castling said, smiling sympathetically, though looking unconvinced.

"Would you like a drink?" Ben asked. He didn’t want Castling to stay long enough to have a drink, but being a good host would probably make him look better than if he tried to hurry him on his way.

"I’d murder a cup of tea." He clapped his hand over his mouth. "That was a really poor choice of words. I do apologise."

Ben smiled politely and went over to the kitchenette to put the kettle on. "No worries. Just a slip of the tongue."

Ben’s apartment was so small that the kitchenette was only a few steps away from the lounge area. That meant Castling was perfectly able to sit on the sofa and continue talking to him whilst Ben made them both a cup of tea.

"Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me being here. My visit doesn’t mean that you’re a suspect in any way, however, you are the only witness we’ve had so far. You are the only person to have seen this red-haired woman. We don’t even have any security footage of the woman. This means that I need to scrutinise you to the nth degree. Your testimony could be the very thing that the prosecution relies on if this red-haired woman is apprehended and charged," he explained. Ben wanted to believe him, but he found that he just couldn’t. Maybe he was too paranoid, but he’d always found it was best to assume somebody had the worst intentions.

"I understand," he lied. It was easier to be dishonest when he had his back to somebody. It felt more relaxing when they couldn’t analyse his face, and despite Castling’s laid-back demeanour, he had eyes that were constantly searching for clues. Details like that did not go unnoticed by Ben. The kettle boiled and he began pouring the boiling water over the tea bags, watching them bloat as the steaming liquid hit them. There was something very tranquil about watching the water pour. For a brief moment, all his troubles were washed away. They came rushing back the moment Castling resumed speaking.

"You arrived at the hospital approximately three hours before your shift yesterday evening. Would you say that time is about accurate?"

Ben tried to stop himself from tensing up. He had not expected Castling to know that. The only person Ben had spoken to had been Izzy, he hadn’t seen any of his other colleagues. It was also not lost on Ben that Castling had not given him the option of denying his presence at the hospital, merely the chance to quibble over what time he arrived. Then he remembered the new security protocols. His arrival had been logged.

"Do you take milk?" Ben asked, using the question to buy him a bit more time to decide whether or not he should lie.

Castling nodded. "Just a splash please."

Ben pulled the milk from the fridge and took his time pouring it so he could keep his back to Castling for just a moment longer. "I did go to work, but that’s when my migraine struck so I came home before my shift started."

He finished off the two teas and carried them over to the living area. After placing them both on the messy coffee table, he sat down in the shabby armchair that had been in the apartment even before he’d moved in. The chair looked so old it was entirely possible that the apartment had been built around it.

"Thank you." Castling nodded at the cup. "You didn’t check out when you left the hospital."

Ben feigned confusion. "I definitely did. Perhaps the guard on duty didn’t log it properly."

"Do you remember who booked you out?" Once again the tip of the pen was on the paper.

Ben shook his head and sighed. "Ah, tall, dark-haired guy. Had stubble."

Castling nodded, clearly not buying it, and scribbled the description down. "Your superiors claimed that you didn’t notify any of them that you would be absent from work?"

Ben bit back the urge to tell him that he had no superiors. "I was in so much pain I just had to get home. I didn’t really think about much else." That wasn’t strictly a lie since he had spent the night in the worst agony of his entire existence so far.

"I understand." He scribbled it down. Ben tried to see what he was writing but he kept it angled away from him.

Ben raised his tea to his lips and stopped. For the first time, it occurred to him that he might not be able to drink tea. When it came to the myths, some said that vampires could eat and drink just like humans, and others said that if they attempted it they’d get sick.

"Is there a problem?" Castling asked, looking at Ben’s cup as if it was filled with poison. Ben stared down into the brown liquid and wondered if it was.

"No. Just tired," he replied. He took a tentative sip of the tea. He swished it around in his mouth for a few seconds to see if it had any adverse effects. It tasted exactly the way tea always had so he swallowed it. When nothing unexpected happened he helped himself to a much larger mouthful, smiling to himself. An eternity without tea was not something Ben would have liked to think about. Castling observed his strange behaviour with a furrowed brow but didn’t comment on it.

"You’ll be pleased to know that nobody was murdered last night and no attacks took place," he said.

"Well, that’s good. Maybe the woman has moved on."

"Mmm. This red-haired woman that you described hasn’t been seen. Add that to the fact that you are the only person to have seen her, and the one night that you didn’t go to work no murders took place—" His phone rang cutting him off for which Ben was grateful. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he had been about to say.

Castling excused himself to take the call. He only went over to the kitchenette which was perfectly in earshot, but it provided Castling with the semblance of privacy.

With his new vampiric hearing, Ben focused on the phone and found that he could quite easily hear both sides of the conversation. He was all too aware that using his powers in the daytime was risky, but he was shielded from the direct sunlight, and he was in the safety of his home. Any weakness caused by his actions would be dealt with as soon as he was able to get into bed.

He squeezed his eyes shut in despair when he heard the news that the caller delivered. They’d found the security officer’s body. They had not found him in the abandoned ward. It seemed that Erin had moved the body to a storage cupboard. She’d erased the security footage again too.

Again Ben wondered what her game was. She had some kind of a scheme afoot in the hospital and it would plague him until he found out what it was. If she didn’t kill him in a few days that was. Due to the nature of the security officer’s death, it was obvious that the body had been moved. The lack of splattered head fragments confirmed it.

Castling ended the call and returned to the sofa. His face was sombre and his suspicion was now unmasked. It seemed at that moment that his due diligence excuse was gone and his detective’s eyes peered right into the shadowy recesses of Ben’s mind. There was something other than detective suspicion in Castling’s gaze, something unsettling.

"It would seem that I spoke too soon. A body has just been found and all of the security footage for the entire hospital was wiped."

"What?" Ben said, feigning surprise.

"Mr. Blake, I need to know exactly where you were all night?"

"I told you. I was right here."

"All night long?"

"I didn’t go out until this morning."

"So if I check the GPS data on your mobile device it will confirm that?"

"I have that switched off. I don’t like the idea of people stalking me."

"May I see?" He held his hand out for Ben’s phone. Ben felt like a child who was having their phone confiscated by the teacher. The instinct that had been ingrained in him to obey authority figures kicked in and he only just managed to stop himself from handing his phone over without question.

"I thought I wasn’t a suspect?"

"Non-compliance only makes you more of a suspect, Benedict," he said, his voice grave. "Give me your mobile phone, please." His eyes were like stone and brooked no argument.

Ben said the only five words that he knew could stop Castling. The same five words that would cement him as a suspect. "Do you have a warrant?"

"It wouldn’t take me long to get one." There was no threat in his voice, just fact, and it was obvious that he was not bluffing.

"None of this is how it looks," Ben said, his voice taking an edgy note as he felt the walls closing in.

"The way it looks is that on the one night that you have no provable alibi, another person has been murdered. You claim to have been here all night long, but you were seen at the hospital and you never checked out. I saw you arriving home from somewhere. You have also been at the scene of both of the other murders. And the only other suspect in this case is a woman who only you have seen. Her entire existence is in question, let alone her guilt. And now you are refusing to cooperate when by doing so you could easily prove your whereabouts."

"This is ridiculous," Ben said. Heat rose up in him as panic took hold. Not just panic, but anger too. Anger that Castling was sitting there in his home accusing him of murder and talking down at him like he was common dirt.

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair. Castling’s eyes widened and pinpointed on his shirt collar.

"Is that blood?" Castling grabbed his phone and knowing that if he made that phone call Ben would be arrested, he reached out and grabbed the detective’s wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Castling demanded.

"I didn’t kill anybody. I’m innocent," Ben said, the desperation and anger breaking through the cracks in his voice as he stared into Castling’s eyes.

Castling blinked and jerked his head away as if he’d just been spat on. For the briefest of moments, his keen eyes dulled as if he was daydreaming. He pulled his wrist out of Ben’s grip and his fingers went to the silver chain around his neck.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked. It was his turn to give Castling a weird look.

"Yes, sorry." He shook his head, blinking several times to dislodge the moment of weirdness. "Thank you for your time, Mr Blake. Sorry to have troubled you. I do hope you feel better soon." He stood up and tucked his notebook back into his pocket.

"What?" Confused did not begin to describe what Ben was feeling. "That’s it?"

"Yes, of course. You didn’t kill anybody. You’re innocent."

Ben was too stunned to speak. He had actually just hypnotised a police officer. And he hadn’t even been trying to. He had just hypnotised his way out of a murder investigation. He hadn’t even been aware that he possessed such a power.

He saw Castling to the door and the entire time he was saying goodbye he was trying to hide how giddy with excitement he was. With power like hypnosis, he would be absolutely unstoppable. He’d be untouchable. He could literally do whatever he wanted. A small laugh slipped through his lips as he closed and locked his front door.

However, super-being or not, he was shattered, even more so since he had inadvertently used hypnosis to convince Castling of his innocence. He dragged his feet into his bedroom, stripped down to his boxers, scattering his clothes across the room, and crash-landed onto his bed. He was asleep the moment his eyelids closed.